Your Hand Is Mine
by GayShipsHELLYEAH
Summary: In some other universe, Octavian believed he had died from being launched from an onager. However, where he is now, things don't go as smoothly as everyone might have wished it would. Battered, bruised and injured near death, Octavian wonders why he hasn't been sent to Tartarus. Above all, he wonders why he can't bring himself to just let everything go. Also on Wattpad.


_**Hey there! Thanks for popping in. REALLY appreciate it. Everyone is welcome to read my scribbles of madness.**_

 _ **Since the fic is only in-the-making, don't take anything too seriously. For now, the story is just an experiment. Have fun and tell me what you think. Reviews are very important to writers, as they encourage them to keep writing and steer them in the direction that would best suit the story and it's readers.**_

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 _ **CHAPTER 1: "Reflection"**_

 **Octavian shouldn't be dying right now.**

He should have died a while ago. If not from the massive fall and his body rolling ungracefully across the land, at the very least he should have died from the shock of suddenly being launched into the air like a pebble being thrown by a fully grown man. Currently, he registered that he was laying on his back on damp, muddy grass. He sensed that he was near some kind of water body, like a lake or ends of his singed hair seemed to float on the still waters. His brain pounded within his skull and every inch of his body ached.

 _He shouldn't be alive right now._

Octavian could tell, without a doubt, that he had lost a limb. He couldn't tell if it was his left arm or his right leg, but he knew that those areas hurt just a tad bit more that everywhere else. All he could see was pure darkness. He wasn't quite sure if his eyes were opened or not, but something told him that he wouldn't want to see his state. He had a pretty vivid idea already.

He imagined that his body was burnt and bloodied. His toga was probably ripped and partially sticking to his scarred skin, along with the rest of his clothes. His hair was probably dyed in an unfitting red color and blood was likely forming a red river down his face. His fingers were definitely broken from clawing at the ground during his roll. His nails were probably missing.

He felt dry. Completely dehydrated and, literally, burnt like wood.

So this is how "the great" Octavian would die.

From his own stupidity.

Looking back at himself a few moments ago, he felt a shallow embarrassment that he simply wasn't used to. He was strong-willed and one-track-minded; stubborn, and manipulative in his ways; always out to get what he saw fitting. He was a power-hungry psychopath, or at the very least, that's what he felt he looked liked to everyone, and in a way, that was how he saw himself. Maybe not literally but it seemed a befitting metaphor.

He did what he deemed necessary. There was nothing else to it. Once he had convinced himself of one thing, changing his views was near impossible.

Apparently, all it took was a nice brush with Hades to repent. Perhaps that was why he had been given this time. To repent and beg the gods not to throw him into the Fields of Punishment. In his head, he didn't deserve that kind of eternal punishment. He wasn't the most amiable or reasonable person, but he believed in sacrifice. Sometimes reputation had to suffer for the greater good. Sometimes suffering was necessary.

Had he not been doing things correctly?

Had he been too manipulative?

Had he made himself too despicable?

It didn't matter now. His tiny hourglass was running low on sand and he had gotten the time to realize that his views were not as flawless as he had hoped they had been. He couldn't believe his own inferior train of thought. He might have laughed at himself if it didn't hurt so much to breath. Since when was breathing a laborious process? Oh right! Since he started dying.

Octavian had never imagined himself as a person who feared death. Then again, he'd never actually been near to it and he hadn't imagined his first class ticket would arrive any time soon, but here he was. He'd probably never have to admit it to anyone but, he was horrified.

He'd been set on earth, as far as he was concerned, to help lead the legion to victory by all means necessary. That had been his only purpose. He had failed at that and now he had no reason to go on living. Yet, he didn't want to die.

At 11, Octavian had realized that life was bleak for demigods, a train of thought he had never revealed, and as hard as life might be for some, the afterlife did not seem much better. If a demigod managed to ignore the travesty that is his life and fight for the gods until the very end, then he would likely be given the chance to stay in Elysium or choose rebirth. It didn't seem like enough to make up for a short, grotesque and grueling lifetime. It would be better to just end everything.

Nothingness. That's all Octavian dreamed of for the afterlife. Upon discovering that some mortals actually thought like this, he had scoffed at their ignorance but deep down the concept seemed amazing and fulfilling.

Of course, it was nothing but a childish plight which he had quickly disregarded.

Now, he was actually going to experience the afterlife for himself. He hoped for the Fields of Asphodel but, so far, not much had gone according to plan.

Everything hated his very existence. For good reason, too. He imagined that, even if he did live, he would never be able to redeem himself. Partially because of the contempt he had gathered and partially because of his own stubbornness.

It would probably be better for everyone if he was just erased from existence. _Right?_

 _Octavian_

Huh? Was someone calling him or was he just hallucinating? Probably the latter.

 ** _Octavian_**

He wished it would just go away. He was tired. He just wanted a moment to believe that everything would stop. He didn't need random voices calling his name right now.

A gust of wind blew by and something peeled from his face. His eyes had been shut, after all. He opened them, slowly. Red washed over his left eye's vision so he closed it. With his right eye, however, he registered the sun above for a moment. It was so bright; like someone had put some kind of filter over it to make it look white. Or is this the infamous light that he should avoid?

Before he could hold this train of thought, a shadow blocked the light. Octavian panicked. He couldn't explain it but there was something so much more comfortable about the light than the shadow. He wanted to scream; to yell "Get outta the way! " or something but the pain and heaviness in his body made it impossible.

"Octavian! O my gods it really is him! " the shadow spoke above him. It occurred to him then that his half-dead body had just been found. No one was there to stop him from dying, then. That was good. _**Right?**_

"Should we leave him? " the shadow asked someone outside of Octavian's field of vision.

Yes, Octavian thought. Surely that was the only answer that would come.

"As much as I wish we could, no. He's still breathing. We've gotta carry him back. ASAP. "

What?

"But look at him! Wouldn't it be less painful for him if we just leave him to die in peace? He can't possibly live for much longer! "

"Who made you a child of Apollo? "

Silence followed while Octavian reeled in confusion. One wanted to tend to him while the other wanted to leave him to die in peace. It was so strange.

It was as if they cared about him.

It sounded weak and pathetic but oddly... comforting?

"Have you two found someone? " a familiar voice rang through. Normally, Octavian would have sneered at the graecus but it didn't even cross his mind. He wondered, instead, how Percy Jackson would react to him.

"Yeah," the shadow straightened and Octavian could see the comforting light again. "It's Octavian."

Here comes the celebration, Octavian thought.

"You mean he's alive?!" Percy's black mess of hair appeared and there was once again a shadow hovering over him.

"Yep. His chest is still moving,"

"He just reacted to your presence. "

"He's grimacing, " Nico di Angelo grimaced, suddenly hovering above him with the other three people.

"What's his status? " Jackson asked.

"Putting it in numbers, it'd be around 25%, which isn't good but..." Nico seemed to scowl deeper. It was hard to tell with the bright light shining above the four demigods and the rising panic in his system. "He's unusually stable. His life is barely wavering."

Di Angelo raised his head and so did the others. A good amount of light shone through and Octavian relaxed a little. "I think he has a chance, regardless of how slim it is. We should get him back, immediately. "

Octavian waited. He waited to hear " _Are you kidding me?_ " or " _Do we have to?_ " or " _Hell nah! "_ but instead the four nodded in unison.

The next thing Octavian knew was that the four Greek demigods were trying to lift him. Pain exploded all throughout his body and Octavian might have screamed if he wasn't so burnt out. Despite this, the thing that bothered him the most, oddly enough, was not the overflowing pain, but instead the constant wavering of the light above him. The demigods kept blocking it with their gigantic heads and it was driving Octavian insane. The feeling was impossible to explain.

The light should represent death, right?

 _Did Octavian want to die?_

No.

 _Did Octavian want to live?_

No.

 _So what exactly was he fighting for?_

He had no idea.

But he fought anyway. He ignored the seething pain and fought. He kicked and screamed and flailed about like there was no tomorrow. And there probably wouldn't be any.

Eventually, it became too much. His mind grew hazy and Octavian felt himself withdrawing from the world.

The last thing he saw was the sun hovering above him in all it's glory and somehow, it felt as though Apollo was smiling down at him. As if he were saying,

"Just wait and see. "

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 _ **So, the first chapter of everything I write is ultimately a draft, or 'pilot', like the first episode of a series. My stories are all subjected to continuous editing and changing as I go along so don't be too surprise if little things start to change over time.I try to do thorough research on the things I write about so I'll brush up incorrect stuff and misconceptions later.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading!**_ **_Review_**

 **~Yohan**


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